Never stop running
by KD Rose
Summary: Running. Ashlynne has been running her entire life. In her attempts to escape her past, she finds herself in Skyrim. And her life changes the moment she meets Cicero, accepting her role as Listener and ignoring the demanding feelings that arise soon after.(Dialogue may be altered for original content. Listener/Cicero pairing. Rated M for sexual content, violence, and mild language)
1. Prologue - Unbound

My vision slowly opened then closed, bright light hurting my eyes as I faded in and out from unconsciousness. My head pounded, pain shooting more painfully with each throb. And when my eyes finally adjusted to the brightness of my surroundings, I let out a heavy sigh. Snow covered pine trees laced the trails, with cobbled dirt trails and mountains in the near and far distance. I had made it, _right_? But my sudden hope was crushed as I noticed that I was moving. I was in a wooden wagon, drawn by a single dark brown horse, whose tail flicked as the wagon's driver hummed to himself. But the rider was wearing leather armor. And as I looked down, my hands were bound with rope. _Oh no_. My immediate reaction was to panic. But before I could even _think_ about freaking out, a man's broad voice made me freeze.

"Hey, you. You're finally awake." I looked up to see a strong looking man with an unshaven face and long blonde hair. But he wasn't the only one in the wagon with me. To his left was a scrawny dark haired man, who was covered in dirt and wore something a prisoner would wear, unlike the blonde man, who wore armor that was very different from the driver's. and then I noticed the massive man beside me. Everyone in the wagon had their hands bound, but for some reason, whoever our captors might be, went through the trouble to make sure he wouldn't speak. He looked almost similar to the man in front of me, but he seemed to be someone of importance…or fortune.

"You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial trap, same as us, and that thief over there." _Was I still in Cyrodiil_? But I did remember the ambush. I don't know if I crossed the border between Cyrodiil and Skyrim, but that probably didn't matter anymore. But I had to know, _was I in Skyrim_? I was brought out of my thoughts as the scrawny fellow began to speak, his tone agitated.

"Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy." _Skyrim_. "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could have stolen that horse and be halfway to Hammerfell." He suddenly brought his attention to me. "You there. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

The first man huffed. "We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief."

"Shut up back there!" The driver shouted, not even bothering to turn around.

The thief stared at the man beside me. "And what's wrong with him, huh?"

The blonde raised his voice, elbowing him. "watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." The thief wore a grim expression.

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion…" His eyes widened. "But if they've captured you…Oh gods, where are they taking us?"

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits." _Death was waiting for us…wherever it may be_.

Beyond the path our wagon took, only a few yards ahead of us was another wagon with captured Stormcloak soldiers. And beyond them, a town approached. The thief began to panic.

"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening."

The blonde held a softer tone. "Hey, what village are you from horse thief?"

The thief shot back at him. "Why do you care?"

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home."

His eyes softened and he tilted his head up. "Rorikstead. I'm…I'm from Rorikstead." Our wagons slowly paraded into the small town, passing under a walkway, where an Imperial soldier could be heard overhead.

"General Tullius, sir! The headsman is waiting!" Headsman? That could only mean…_execution_. And then someone called back to the soldier, who I assumed was this _General Tullius_.

"Good, let's get this over with." And as he comes into view, I'm definitely sure I saw General Tullius. He was sitting on a horse, surrounded by people in gold and ebony hooded cloaks. But I could tell they were High Elves. Inaudible conversations continued around us as we moved further into the town.

"This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here." The blonde smiled to himself. "Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with Juniper berries mixed in." I found myself surprised at how well this man was handling all of this. Rather than stressing over his last moments -just as the thief- he brought forth tender memories that made him happy. But I didn't want to search my mind for such things right now. But, when did I ever? "Funny. When I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." But he still held that small smile, even though we were going to die. I wanted to smack him and make him stop. _How could someone welcome_ _death so easily_? We came into a court yard, but I strained to watch as a little boy watched us, asking his father who we were. But his father pushed him inside, before the boy could even object. And then, finally, the wagons stop, standing side by side.

A woman in heavy armor comes towards the wagons with a few Imperial soldiers. "Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it!" Whoever this strong spoken woman was, she was definitely in charge. The guards began pulling us _prisoners_ out of the wagons. Ulfric Stormcloak was the first to be dragged from the wagon.

"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" The thief shouted as a soldier yanked him out of the cart and onto the ground. He stumbled and quickly regained his balance. I fought the urge to attack the soldier who grabbed my arm and forced me out. But I didn't want to cause any _unnecessary_ complications. And then the blonde hopped out and stood beside me, giving me a reassuring glance. But it didn't make me feel any better. The thief continued to plead.

"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!"

"Face your death with some courage, thief." The man beside me barked. The Imperial Captain began to push around her orders again.

"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time."

"Empire loves their damn lists." The blonde muttered to himself. Soldiers at both carts began calling names.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." Ulfric walked towards the guided area, which was for the audience to an executioner's block, with General Tullius, the headsman, a few Imperial soldiers, and a Priestess. My hearts sank.

"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" The blonde was called next.

"Ralof of Riverwood." And then he nodded to me and walked away.

"Lokir of Rorikstead." The thief immediately retaliated.

"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" And then he ran towards the road. I was almost tempted to join him. _Almost_.

The Imperial Captain yelled after him. "Halt!" He didn't stop. "Archers!" An Imperial bowman pulled back his bow, his sight following him.

"You're not going to kill me!" But he didn't make it far before an arrow pierced through his chest and he crumbled to the ground. Dead.

"Anyone else feel like running?" The Captain shouted. No one dared. And then they finally called upon me.

"Wait. You there. Step forward." I obeyed not looking up. "Who are you?" I wanted to lie. It didn't matter what my name was now, right? _What's a name when you're_ _dead_. But I only _half_ lied.

"Amina Irthe…" I said my mother's name. "…from High Rock." The soldier gave me a questioning look.

"You from Daggerfall, Breton? Fleeing from some court intrigue?" _Or something_. The soldier turned to the Captain. "Captain. What should we do? She's not on the list." I wasn't surprised by her response.

"Forget the list. She goes to the block."

The soldier gave me a sympathetic look as the Captain walked to towards the other prisoners. "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to High Rock." And then I followed the others to the yard, around the block. But at that point, I blocked out everything. I didn't make it this far to die like _this_. Death by association. Death by _coincidence_. And I only came back to this cruel reality when both of my arms were grabbed and I was pushed towards the block. They pushed me to my knees and someone pressed their foot on my back, forcing my chest against the now bloody block. And I wanted to scream when I saw someone's _head_ not far from me. And the worst part is that my head was turned towards the headsman, and I had to watch as he lifted up his scythe. And then I closed my eyes. And I waited. But death never came.

"What in oblivion is that?" People began to scream. The ground shook. I opened my eyes. Right above the headsman, sitting on the tower, was…

"Dragon!" It shouted and the sky suddenly filled with dark clouds that formed in a whirling spiral, thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. I roll away and someone pulls me to my feet, pulling me with them as they run. I opened my hazy eyes, which had been wet with tears. And my hands were cut free. And I looked up to see Ralof. He shoved a dagger into my hands.

"Run! Don't stop running! Never stop running!" And he pushed me towards a hole through the towns walls. But it only took a glance to see how destroyed the town already was, the dragon breathing fire down onto the villagers and soldiers. "Go!" And with that, I did. And I ran. And ran, and ran, and ran. And I never stopped running.


	2. Delayed Burial

It had been a year since my near execution. A year since I had escaped to Skyrim. A year since I left my old life behind and started adulthood with a hard push. I moved around Skyrim a lot, never staying in one place for more than a couple of weeks. I rented rooms at inns and made most of my money collecting bounties, and selling game and pelts.

I had just left Whiterun, after selling the meat of a large elk, following a road that lad northeast. I passed a watch tower, ignoring the guards stares and kept walking. It was a very sunny and warm day, which I didn't mind, I was actually thankful for the heat. I never did like the cold. But walking through the scalding heat made me wish I bought that horse the day before. It would have been a good investment on my part, if I hadn't lost my nerve when the horse seller's wife came out of their home, throwing a pile of clothes towards him. She went off screaming about his secret lover, and found the whore's letters to him. But if that wasn't enough, she started to curse at me, telling me to leave before she kills her husband and me. And when I didn't take her seriously she grabbed a pitchfork from the horse stalls and began swinging it at her husband. So I ran.

It wasn't long before I neared a farm, which I decided to stop by, hoping they could spare some water. But the closer I came to the farm, the slower I walked. In the distance, on the road, right down the hill to the farm, was a broken down wagon, a horse still attached to the reins. What compelled me to keep my distance was the man next to the wagon, stomping around, fuming and yelling. I squinted my eyes to see what he looked like. He was dressed in a black and red jester outfit, with long red hair revealed underneath his hat. I hadn't seen a jester since my residence in Cyrodiil. And I was sure no jester other than this one existed in Skyrim. I pushed my gnawing uncertainties and continued towards the farm. I slowed down again as I came to the jester's wagon.

He paced around the wagon, ranting. "Bother and befuddle! Stuck here! _Stuck_!" His voice was shrill and ecstatic, each word punctuating the senses with alarming volume. "My mother, my poor mother. Unmoving. At rest, but _too_ still!" The jester stopped by the back of the wagon and let out a huff. I tried to get the man's attention.

"Hey!" The man turned to me with a surprised expression. "Problem?"

"Poor Cicero is stuck. Can't you see?" _Cicero_. "I was transporting my dear sweet mother. Well, not her. Her corpse. She's quite dead." I gave him a quizzical stare, which he ignored. My eyes then moved to the wagon, which was carrying a very large cargo box.

_Cicero_ began to giggle. "I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt. But…" He let out a frustrated shout. "Wagon wheel! Damn wagon wheel! It broke! Don't you see?" As much as I would have wanted to just walk away from this strange individual and be on my way, I decided against it. I blew air up at my bangs, which resisted my attempts to evade from my eyes.

"Is there some way I can help?" Cicero let out a gleeful shriek, bouncing on the balls of his feet, clapping his hands.

"Oh. Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help!"

Before he could continue, I introduced myself. " I'm _Ashlynne_."

"Cicero." He did a little bow and I couldn't help but smile at him for his actions. But, I was surprised with myself. _I gave him my real name_.

"Please. Go to the farm - the Loreius Farm." He pointed up the hill, at the farm. "Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools!" He crossed his arms, his expression forming to one of slight annoyance. "He can help me. But he won't! He refuses!" I narrowed my eyebrows.

He let out a nervous laugh. "Convince Loreius to fix my wheel. Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you." I admit, that sounded very appealing. "With coin." Even better. "Gleamy, shiny coin." I agreed and left Cicero at the road and even as I headed up the dirt trail to the farm, he continued to rant to himself. It didn't take much time at all before I reach the porch to the small house surrounded by crops. An Altmer woman with short blonde hair stood against the porch railing. She politely greeted me, just as a man -who must have been Loreius- stepped out of the house.

"Hello, stranger." Loreius said with a slight smile. "I am Loreius and this is my wife, Curwe."

"Amina." I responded with a small smile. _A lie this time_. I looked back down the hill where Cicero was. "The, um, little man really needs your help. With his wagon?" Before I could finish my sentence, Loreius' face changed. he looked annoyed and angry. I bit my lip, simply preparing for some kind of feeble wrath.

"That Cicero feller?" He drew out his annoyance with a grunt. "Tell me something I don't know. Crazy fool's already asked me about five times. Seems he's not satisfied with my answer." I suddenly felt very uncomfortable -as did Curwe, but it seemed more of embarrassment of her husband- regret settled in as I realized the true nature of the situation. I quickly thought of some sort of response.

"So…what's the problem? I'm sure he'll pay you…" Loreius looked offended.

"Pay me? You think this is about money? Have you seen the man?" _Unfortunately_. "He's completely out of his head. A jester? Here, in Skyrim? Ain't been a merryman in these parts for a hundred years." I tried my best to hide my obvious dislike in his words, the ignorance in his voice. I could tell he was a rarely outspoken man.

"And he's transporting some giant box. Says it's a coffin, and he's going to bury his mother. _Mother_ my eye. He could have anything in there. War contraband. Weapons. Skooma. Ain't no way I'm getting involved in any of that." At this point I was sure this man was as stubborn as a bull.

I put on a sympathetic expression. "He's a friendly stranger that needs assistance. Please, do the right thing." Loreius glared down at me. _I knew my next words would_ _make him feel guilty_. "What if that is his mother's remains in that box. Are you really going to cause him any more grief just because you're unsure? Are you really prepared to do that?" His expression softened a bit. His wife gave me a hopeful stare. "You know you should help him. He hung his head, sighing. _It worked_.

"Look, I…I…" Curwe stared up at him with an encouraging smile. He caved in. "You're right. You're absolutely right. He might be nutters, but…he needs help. I turn him away, what kind of man am I, right?" _Exactly_. He turned his body away from me. "Look, um…Thanks. And I'm sorry for my _unneighborly_ reaction. If you talk to Cicero, you be sure and tell him I'll be down to help soon." Then Loreius sulked into their house to retrieve his tools, his crushed pride crawling after him. Before I could walk away, Curwe thanked me.

"Loreius is a little headstrong, that's all. He is truly a kind man." She laughed. "You know men and their pride." I smiled back at her. _Pride_. But before I left, I did ask for water. She quickly hurried inside with my waterskin and only moments later, came outside with it filled. I thanked her for her and her husband's generosity and headed down the hill. As I neared Cicero, I could hear him still talking to himself.

"Poor mother…Her new home seems so very far away."

I called down to him. "I talked to Loreius. He's agreed to fix your wagon wheel." Cicero immediately perked up and turned to me.

"He did? He has? Oh, kind woman!" He grabbed me and pulled me into a crushing hug. "You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic!" He tightened his grip, leaning back until my feet were off the ground. "But more! _Even_ more!" Forgotten pain hit me. I kicked my feet, whining as my rib cage weakened and pained me from his bear hug. He quickly noticed the pained expression on my face and set me down, backing away. I wrapped my arms around myself and let out a few heavy breaths.

Before he could even apologize, I spoke. "I'm fine. It's completely all right." And to reassure him as he gave me an unbelieving look, I forced a smile and stood up straight. "See, fine." _Another half-lie_. And then his worry was gone and he began to dance around in circles, laughing all giddy.

"My mother thanks you! Here, here. For your troubles. Shiny clinky gold! A few coins for a kind deed." A _few_ was an understatement. "And thank you! Thank you again." Cicero handed me a hefty coin purse, which when counted later was give or take 500 gold. And I almost questioned why he would give me so much for something as simple as persuading a stubborn farmer.

"I will wait for Loreius! Oh yes, mother and I will wait right here, right here until he fixes our wheel." I stood against the wagon and let out a heavy sigh. And I furrowed my brow as I became lost in thought. _He touched me_. I was confused, because not only was he a stranger, he was a _man_. And he was the first person to even touch me since I escaped Helgen. I had become distrustful, and sometimes completely devoid of any compassion. But maybe the reason I didn't attack him when he hugged me wasn't because I was in pain, but rather…a completely different reason. I took it all in slowly, still not exactly sure what overcome me. Why did I give _him_ my name, then lie to Loreius and his wife? _Why_? _Why_, _why_, _why_, _why_, _why_?

But I couldn't dwell _too_ much on the subject. And I only stayed until Loreius fixed the wagon wheel. It didn't take him long, but Cicero and I both had to hold up the right side as he pushed the wheel into play. And I hadn't expected it to be so heavy. And when Loreius was done he left, without a second's notice. And Cicero was very happy. And I don't know what compelled me to stop him before he climbed up into the wagon.

"Um…Cicero?"

He turned to me with a smile. "Yes, kind Ashlynne?"

I hesitated before speaking. "Where are-" I stopped myself. _Don't ask_. _Don't ask_. _Please don't ask_. "Be safe."


	3. Innocence Lost

Windhelm. It held the cold that I so despised. It wasn't my first time in Windhelm, and it certainly wouldn't be my last. But I wasn't here for no apparent reason. Rumors drew me to the city. I had stopped by the _Sleeping Giant Inn_ in Riverwood just two days before. I didn't even rent a room, even though I should have, for soon the veil of sleep tried so desperately to wrap around my body. But I was stubborn. _Sleep is for the weak_. I had overheard Orgnar -the bar keeper- talking to Embry -the town drunk- about a certain boy in Windhelm. Although I was sure Embry only half heard what Orgnar was saying to him, it didn't stop him from gossiping. He spoke of an orphan who was performing the Black Sacrament to contact the Dark Brotherhood.

I knew very well who the Dark Brotherhood was. There was presence of a few Sanctuaries in Cyrodiil, and one in Hammerfell, but I was very young then. And in the near decade of my past, my home was very disconnected from the rest of the world. But I don't know what nagged me to go to Windhelm. I don't know why I had to speak to this boy.

I didn't have to search for long until I found the Aretino residence. Outside of the residence was a Dunmer woman and a small Nord boy in a heated discussion. I hid in the shadows, eavesdropping.

"Then it's true what everyone is saying? That Aventus Aretino is doing the Black Sacrament? Trying to summon the Dark Brotherhood?" The boy exclaimed to the older woman.

"Oh, Grimvar…always with the nonsense." She let out a sigh. "No, no, of course not. Those are just rumors."

Grimvar smirked, his hands on his hips. "Fine. Then I'll invite him out to play. He lives right there. I'm going to knock on his door…" Grimvar started towards the Aretino's front door. The woman grabbed him by his arm.

"No, child! Wait! That boy, that house -they're cursed." _Cursed_? Grimvar pulled his arm away, no longer attempting in his joke.

"Ha! Then I'm right. I knew it. He's trying to have somebody killed!"

The woman hushed him and began to whisper. "All right. I won't deny it, child. What you heard is true. But Aventus walks a dark path. His actions can lead only to ruin." She no longer whispered, pushing Grimvar away from the house and down a path. "Now. Enough. We will speak no more of this." I slowly emerged from my hiding place, approaching the woman. Before she could begin walking away, I spoke out to her.

"Did I hear you say something about a _cursed_ child?" The woman flinched, obviously surprised by my sudden presence and question.

She slowly nodded. "Hmm, yes. It is quite sad. A young boy, Aventus Aretino, lost his mother recently, and was sent to an orphanage. But he has returned home, and people have heard _strange_ chantings." She drew her eyes to the ground. "They say it's the Black Sacrament, the ritual to contact the-"

"The Dark Brotherhood." She slowly nodded.

"Why a little boy would want to contact a group of murderers is beyond me." She curled her lip. "But he is inviting evil into this city." And then she turned away, walking after Grimvar. Her words should have been enough to ward me away from the boy's home, but it did the exact opposite. I crept towards the door, contemplating whether or not I should knock or just sneak inside. I chose the latter and slipped inside.

A child's voice echoed through the small house. I crawled up the stairs and peeked around the corner, still no sight of the boy.

"Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." He chanted over and over. I stood now, assuming he wouldn't hear me if I walked lightly. The only light in the house glowed from a small passage aside from the only room in the house. I kept to the darkness, stepping towards the light.

Inside the small passage was Aventus, sitting inside a circle of candles, an effigy of human remains, scattered Nightshade petals around him. He stabs the effigy continuously with a dagger, still chanting. _Where did he get all this_? I didn't know what to do. I mean, it was obvious that he was expecting a Dark Brotherhood assassin and no one else, but…I wanted to be the one to help him. The Dark Brotherhood wasn't coming. It had been too long. His voice was tired and his figure was weak. He must have been doing this for days. I stayed within the darkness.

"Aventus." I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. He froze, and slowly turned around. And he stared into the darkness, he didn't say anything, just waited. I moved into the light and he smiled big, jumping to his feet.

"You've come at last! I knew you would!"

I narrowed my eyes. "Are you alright?" He ignored me.

"It worked! I knew you'd come, I just knew it!" He let out a sigh of relief. "I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body, and the…things. And then you came! An assassin of the Dark Brotherhood!" _Lie_.

"Yes, of course…"

Aventus rubbed his eyes. "It took so long. So very long. But now that you're here, you can accept my contract."

"You're…contract?"

Aventus' eyes softened and became wet with tears. "My mother, she…she died. I…I'm all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman." He sounded angry now, his eyes still brimming with tears. "They call her Grelod the _Kind_. But she's not. She's terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, and came home. And performed the Black Sacrament." He wiped his eyes, smiling again. "Now you're here! And you can kill Grelod!" He looked panicked for a few seconds. "But please don't kill Constance. She really _is_ kind."

I nodded. I knew his pain all too well. No family. Orphaned at just ten. It was just like me. And he was going to get revenge. _He was lucky to get the chance_. "What happened to your mother?"

He sat down against a wall, still in the light. "She got sick, last winter, when the snow came. And she just…she never got better. Not all year." He looked like he was going to cry again. "One night she fell asleep and…never woke up. So now I'm all alone. And the Jarl said I had to go to Honorhall." he slammed both his fists to the wood floor. "It's not fair!" I neared him, kneeling down beside him.

"Are you…sure about this? Murdering this woman?" He stared into my eyes, dead serious.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life. Someone like Grelod doesn't deserve to live one more day. She's a monster."

I arrived to Riften the next day, and I made haste to the Honorhall Orphanage. I had been in Riften before -for only two days- but my visit was cut short when a thief broke into my room. He didn't even have enough time to slip his hand out of my knapsack before I was stabbing him in the back with my knife. The guard showed up before he bled out all over the floor. They recognized him as a thief and only made me pay a small fee to the innkeeper for the mess. I left before morning and had been avoiding Riften ever since. But I had totally forgot that entire ordeal until I entered _The Bee and Bard_. I could almost feel Keerava's glare piercing over my shoulder. Ignoring people came easy to me, but this Argonian woman was headstrong. And seeing her made me think about what I was about to do.

_Was I stupid_? I didn't even have a plan. Was I just going to walk in there and stab her until she was a bloody mess on the floor, in front of _orphans_. That was beyond idiotic and I didn't particularly favor my chances of rotting in a cell. But what was even more insulting to my intelligence, even with her amber eyes burning me as I walked through the inn, was approaching her. It was strictly for information only, for I had no desire whatsoever to stay the night in the inn, let alone Riften. I didn't even bother to sit in the empty stool before the bar, slightly worried that even _that_ would infuriate her more.

"Oh, it's you again. What in blazes do you want?" She sneered.

"Don't worry. I'm not here to stain your floors red again."

A low hiss escaped her throat. "I couldn't rent out that room for days. What you paid me was hardly enough to replace the sheets."

"I didn't have to pay you anything. I was the victim, not your pathetic excuse for a room." Keerava narrowed her eyes.

"Get out."

"Not until you tell me about the orphanage."

Keerava furrowed her thorned brow. "The orphanage? Why would you be asking about the orphanage?"

"Maybe I'm interested in adopting." Keerava laughed and I felt a little offended.

"The headmistress doesn't allow adoptions, and she's got her helper Constance all wound up about it." She shook her head. "The second you walk in there you'll be pushed back into the street."

"Why? Don't you think she would want to get rid of them. It _would_ be easier on her."

"You'd best stay away from there if you know what's good for you."

I let out a small laugh. "Then I'll be on my way." I tapped my knuckles on the bar twice and headed out of the inn, feeling her eyes on me until I was safely out on the streets. But safe was clearly the wrong word to choose.

I leaned against the railing, looking down at the water. I didn't have a plan, and had no idea what to do. I didn't want to let Aventus down. I _couldn't_ let him down. I let out a sigh and decided to explore the city, deciding it was best to do at night so no one would try to engage conversation with me. I walked through the market place and past the keep. This city was awfully small, which I didn't mind. But I also wasn't very fond of. Why? Nothing happens without everyone else knowing about it, and talking about it. This wasn't a place that would allow me to hide in the shadows unnoticed. And it dawned upon me that if I enter Honorhall and then left, leaving behind a trail of blood, I could be easily discovered. I reached a small graveyard and breathed out, my breath visible in the chilled air. And then it hit me, just as a guard walked past me, patrolling the backstreets. _His armor_. That's what I needed. That's how I was going to successfully get in and out of the orphanage.

I was surprised how quickly he went down, and even more so how calm I was after driving my knife into the back of his neck. I moved quickly removing his armor so the blood wouldn't spread across the leather. I hid my knapsack behind a gravestone and rolled his body into the brush. The armor was loose around my figure, hiding my female form.

I made my way to the orphanage, certain my plan would work. I knocked on the front door, loud enough that I was sure someone heard me. After a brief moment, the door opened just barely, a woman with dark brown eyes looking nervously at me.

"Hello, sir. What is it?" I wanted to smack my forehead. But I cleared my throat and lowered my voice.

"I need to speak with the headmistress…Grelod?" The woman bit her lip, becoming uncertain.

"Grelod doesn't like visitors after dark. Can this wait till morning?" I shook my head. "Well…Is she in trouble?"

"Just let me speak to her." The woman slowly nodded and opened the door for me. I stepped inside, relieved for the warmth of the building. The woman led me into the orphanage -perhaps it was Constance- which appeared to be well kept. We passed into a room with five beds, all occupied except one, which must have been Aventus'. She knocked on the door at the end of the room, letting out a shaky sigh while she waited for a response. _She feared her_. Grelod could be heard grumbling inside, making some noise as she moved to the door. She opened it and the look on her face was horrifying. _If looks could kill_.

"What do you want? I told you to not disturb me when I am sleeping." She glared at Constance.

"But a guard is here asking for you." She looked over at me. Grelod switched her glare to me.

"Well, what is this about?" She frowned.

"This is something we should talk about in private." Grelod stared for a while and finally muttered her agreement, casting Constance away and welcoming me into her room. She closed the door and turned to me.

"Make it quick." This woman was absolutely vile, and Aventus wasn't lying when he said she wasn't kind at all. I now understand why he would want to kill her. I _wanted_ to kill her. _And that scared me._

"I found Aventus Aretino." She narrowed her eyes. "He wants you dead."

She crossed her arms. "Is that so? That little pig sent you here?" Her frown deepened. I nodded. "Typical. Thinks he's so smart sending someone to kill a frail old woman. If I find him again, oh, he'll wish he hadn't been so _stupid_." I pulled out my dagger and grabbed her, slamming her against the wall. I covered her mouth with my hand and drove my knife into the center of her chest. Her eyes were frozen in fear, not even closing when her heart stopped beating. I pulled away my knife and let her body slump to the floor. I stepped back and allowed myself to take it all in.

I had just murdered a woman in cold blood. And I killed another to get to my goal. _What had I done_? I quickly left the orphanage, and kept a moderate pace out on the streets to be inconspicuous. I reached the graveyard and stripped away the guard's armor, slinging my knapsack over my shoulder and left the city.

Aventus was patiently waiting for my return and when he saw me enter the room he quickly stood to his feet, his eyes wide with excitement. _He shouldn't be so happy_ _about this_. But then again, maybe he should.

"Well? Is Grelod the Kind…Is she…you know?"

I hesitated before nodding. "Grelod the Kind is dead." Aventus burst out in happy laughter.

"I knew you could do it! I just knew it! I knew the Dark Brotherhood would save me!" Aventus ran over to the single bed, dropping to his hands and knees and pulling out a plate from beneath the bed. He ran back over to me. "Here. This should fetch you a nice price. And thank you. Thank you again." I took the plate from his hands and slipped it into my knapsack. _He was so happy_. I sat with him that night, only leaving when he slept soundly on his bed, a smile fixated on his lips.


	4. With Friends Like These

It was only a month later when I saved up enough coin to buy a house in Whiterun. Whiterun was most familiar to me over the other holds. And it seemed just about the right time to finally settle down. I don't remember exactly when I had begun saving , or _why_ I decided to buy a home for myself. But I admit I was very pleased with myself for following through with such a big decision - most certainly life changing. I did wait an additional week awaiting for Proventus Avenicci to finish all the house preparations. I hadn't lived by myself before (the past year technically didn't count.) I was delighted at the thought, excited even, for the sudden change in my life. It wasn't the first and it wouldn't be the last. No, constant change -whether good or bad- was the flow of my life it seemed.

I finally left the inn and walked the short path to my new home. I stopped before the door, key in hand, and hesitated. I pushed the key into the door, and let out a satisfied sigh as the lock clicked, with only a turn of my hand.

"Miss! Wait!" I turned to the voice, uncertain if it was directed towards me. Bit it was. "Miss, I've been looking for you." The short man stopped before me, panting. I narrowed my eyebrows. "Got something I'm supposed to deliver. Your hands only." Of course it was a courier. He began to dig into his bag at his side. He let out a happy sound and pulled out a piece of folded parchment.

"Yeah, got this note." He handed me the note and I gave him a questioning expression.

"From you?" I didn't dare look upon the note.

He pursed his lips. "Not sure. Pretty shady fellow. I didn't see his face, wouldn't take off his hood." He shrugged. "Well, got to go." And with that, he jogged away. Couriers sure got their exercise. I looked down at the note, examining it. But I didn't unfold it until I was safe inside my new home. But it was exactly that. _My home_. Simple but different from any other home you could ever set foot in. And it reminded me of the home I shared with my family until the day it perished with the fire…along with their freshly butchered bodies. Aventus might have taken his proper revenge, but it was only made possible when I foolishly took on the role of a Dark Brotherhood assassin.

I sat down on the second step of the staircase, relaxing for a moment before flipping open the courier's note. I froze, my body tensing as my eyes stared at the parchment. In the center was a black handprint, and below it was inscribed, "We know." _What…what is this?_ And then it hit me. _The Dark Brotherhood._ It had to be them. But how did they know it was _me_ who killed that old hag, Grelod? Was this some kind of warning? Should I be afraid?

I dropped the note and ascended up the stairs, taking slow, nervous steps. And I felt so stupid that I didn't realize that I wasn't alone in my home until it was too late. I barely passed through the doorway to my bedroom before I hit the wooden floor, feeling the intenseness of unwanted sleep overcome me. And before I could register anything else, my vision turned to black and I was gone.

My vision slowly returned to me, a slight throbbing in my head. The smell of iron filled my nostrils. It became very apparent that I wasn't alone, and that sickly smell was blood.

""Sleep well?" I jerked up in sudden panic, my boots scraping against the wood floor as I scrambled to my feet. The sultry female voice revealed a woman older than I, shrouded in red and black armor, sitting comfortably on top of an empty shelf.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Freaked out, I only stared at the woman.

"Does it matter? You're warm, dry…and still very much alive." she tilted her head. "That's more than can be said about old Grelod."

I froze, my eyes widening. "You know about that?"

She chuckled softly. "Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around." I opened my mouth to speak, but the woman rose her hand to stop me. "Oh, but don't misunderstand. I'm not criticizing. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins, to boot." I was sure she was trying to make me relax, but it wasn't working.

"Ah…But there is a slight problem."

I hesitated before speaking. "A problem?"

She leaned back, letting out a sigh. "You see, the little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me and my associates." Her sapphire eyes flashed and she suddenly leaned forward, staring me down. "Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill…that you stole." She pointed her finger at me. "A kill you must repay."

"What do you want me to do?" I scoffed. "Kill someone?"

I could hear her smile. "Well now. Funny you should ask." She pointed behind me, and I slowly turned around to see what she was pointing at. There were three people against the farthest wall, kneeling with their hands bound behind their backs and black hoods over their heads. I took a slow step toward them.

"Those are my guests. I've 'collected' them from…well, that's not important. The here and now. That's what matters." I took another step closer, utterly confused. "You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But…which one?" She let out a small giggle. I turned around to look at her.

"Go on." She urged. "See if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make a kill. I just want to observe…and admire." I could tell she was smiling and I had to turn away to avoid her gaze. I reached to my belt and pulled out my dagger, stepping back towards the three captives.

"Before I do anything," I gripped the handle tightly. "Who are you?"

She let out a small huff, as if she was smirking. "Astrid. I believe you owe me the same formalities."

_I couldn't lie._ "My name is Ashlynne."

I stopped in front of them. "Alright, I'll do it." My expression was almost blank. "I'll kill one of them." Immediately the three began to plead and protest. I observed them one by one. _I had to be sure which one it was._

I stepped towards the captive on the right, a Khajiit named Vasha. He was a real scumbag. A murderer, a thief, and who knows what else. He seemed to be some sort of boss, with lots of contacts and lots of men willing to do anything for him. And even though I didn't want to kill anyone in this room, he gave me good reason to when he called himself a defiler of daughters. He wasn't surprised in the slightest that he was captured. He obviously had a few enemies that would want to kill him if they could. And I wasn't even fazed when he threatened to have his people carve his name into my corpse. _As if._

And then there was Alea Quintus. She was a vile old woman, screaming at me, practically asking me to end her life. I was even tempted to remove her hood so I could rip out her tongue after she said she wanted to spit in my face for being such a coward by stealing her from her home. For some reason she created an anger inside me that I hadn't felt before. I wanted to kill her too.

The man on the left was Fultheim. Unlike the others I couldn't be sure if he deserved to be killed. Even though he was a mercenary, it didn't quite seem plausible that the contract was for him. He was full of guilt, jumbling his words and shaking in pure and _real _fear. He kept rambling about a raid him and his group of bandits had done a week before.

"I told Holdgrim there was no honor in killing sleeping men. It wasn't my fault!" He may be guilty of that, but I didn't believe he was guilty of anything else.

I made my decision. The woman was the first to die. And as I drove my dagger into her jugular, her struggled cries drove Fultheim to hyperventilating as he realized what had been done, only a foot beside him. Vasha was next, and even though I would've loved to cut off his tail and watch him writhe in pain, I couldn't waste time. I had to finish what I'd done and get out of here. I grabbed his shoulder and quickly punctured my weapon into his heart. He died quietly, but Fultheim continued to become increasingly more terrified, even more so as my footsteps neared him.

He began to sob and beg for his life, but I did not hesitate to step behind him, placing my hand on the top of his head. In one quick movement, I drew my dagger across his neck. His body fell forward, blood slowly pooling out from under his body. I stepped away from their bodies, observing what I just did. I had to kill Fultheim too, I couldn't be wrong. _I just killed three people. I killed again._

I was snapped out of my thoughts as the woman began to clap. "Well, well. Aren't we the overachiever." My eyes never left hers as I walked over to her. "Three possibilities, three victims. Must have been one of them, right? So why take chances…"

I tried my best to appear calm. "You told me to kill, and I killed."

"Indeed. For you, my friend, seem to understand what's truly important. When I give an order to spill blood, you follow it. No questions. No remorse." _No remorse?_

"So…I can leave now?" I said in a small voice, afraid to look away from her captivating stare.

She changed her position on the shelf. "Of course. And you've repaid your debt, in full. You can leave, but why stop here? I say we take our relationship to the next level." I raised my brow, giving her a confused look. "I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my Family. The Dark Brotherhood. In the south west reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct pass phrase. 'Silence, my brother.' Then you're in. And your new life begins."

I slowly nodded and turned my back to her, grabbing my knapsack and slinging it over my shoulder. I made my way to the door, only stopping when she began to speak again. I looked back at her.

"I'll see you at home."

**I have no excuse for how long it took me to post this chapter. I apologize, I've just been putting it off :p But I'm already working on the next chapter :D And hopefully I will be able to post it soon!**


End file.
